


You & Blue

by orphan_account



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: AU, Gen, Healing Character, Inspired Character, M/M, Motorcycles, Self-Reflection, Smoking, Sunsets, alcohol reference, an experiment..., some words found their way into form, thought I'd go ahead and place them here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:28:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22583308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It's been a year since they met. Already, the one Hiro swore reminded him of his lost brother is learning to abandon the past. All it takes is a moment together.
Relationships: Hiro Hamada/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	You & Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Toshikijeevas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toshikijeevas/gifts).



> My attempt to broaden writing horizons. I've had ideas for this world a few times before but something inside kept me from giving them shape. Tonight was the night ;w; Have mercy.

What a nasty colour.

He stared good and long at it; how it cascaded the skyline in shades unlike any other that would exist again in the same space. Should such mimicry of these hues return, they would only be a disguise. Ghosts of tonight. Never the same.

Kyle cleared his throat as he adjusted at the edge of his bike seat. The motorcycle was getting cold at this temperature. Before long, he’d grow icy even through the protection of his choice of leather coat – his pick for every day, every occasion. The weather’s influence on this sunset almost felt like an attack on him. Honestly, he’d grown so god damn sick of seeing that blue. The clouded dusk couldn’t justify its particular prettiness. Beneath foggy gusts and the everlasting preservation of twilight beyond this city, the grey blended depths just didn’t resonate with him. No, in fact: he hated them.

Kyle lit up the cigarette between his lips, cupped his hand to protect it from the wind then took a long drag. His second exhale didn’t carry nearly as much relief as the one prior. Kyle’s stress remained. Maybe he’d wither like the edges of the smokey paper until there was nothing left. They might both disappear by the late hour. He was as dangerous to people as a cancer, and unpleasant. Reminiscent of the scent smoke left behind. A little more of himself fell away each time he got to this encounter of destructive silence. Air gradually deconstructing them both.

But this sunset… Cool. Lingering. If his eyes were shut, he could see the same neon signs. Still hear the vile remarks of drunken barmen bantering with their bilingual slurs, spilling cups and causing ruckus back at the dreadful bar he’d fled just a few short months earlier.

He hated the memory of his former self, including that of this despicable falling sun which followed him to the ongoing passage of reality as it ticked by. It sank the same as a stone drowning in the sea of the sky. Every dawn, every evening. Millions of lights would twinkle after the massive star fell from sight; tiny ripples in drifting galaxies forlorn to reveal themselves. The sky as it changed showed Kyle that he was getting older. Watching. Seemingly doing nothing with himself. Was it true he really hadn’t changed since those days?

That blue… smudging everything together. The cloud emanating from his lips and nostrils joined the air. A part of him appeared to become one with the sky then. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Somewhere along the way, he may have started to avoid any entity of the colour. He may have also hated the ability to remember how much it haunted him, staining his vision behind a chipped counter, and even finding him when he returned alone to the lonely rooms of his apartment. Both places were empty of emotion. Devoid of character.

Kyle hadn’t developed much as his own person but the residue of the life he lived traveled with him constantly. The stink of alcohol had drifted at his side for over a decade. A loyal disease clinging in his skin, clogging his pores. The actions of those who chastised his purpose continued to carve their invisible scars in his flesh only to be hidden by the clothes he wore. Those too, he loathed. In the journey to the present, he realized just how angry a man he’d become. It surprised him. He thought he’d made himself blank. He had tried so hard to be that way instead of anything else. That way – in absence of identity – he could be spared any excessive trouble. That was how a person protected themselves when they had no motivation, wasn’t it? Or had he fooled himself all along?

Kyle was haunted by this putrid colour. It was inescapable. His twin of grief and regret.

He sighed out. This was too much heavy thinking, and that was bound to clog his ability to concentrate on driving when the time came. He reevaluated the direction he needed to take. There was a curfew to be met afterall. Couldn’t be lost to his methodical cycles of private self-destruction if he was expected to take to the road.

That was _one_ freedom at least. The streets led him anywhere worth going. For distraction or escape, of which either temporary healed him. The atmosphere of this multi-ethnic city brought him peculiar ease from his tension with its indifference to the abandoned home of his childhood. That past history might as well have been dead. Gone, along with the only family he had. But the glimmering skyscrapers and shining marvels of SanFransokyo hadn’t yet deserted him. Instead, they managed to leave him curious.

At times, beholding the evolving city reflected his lost ambitions from years ago. He could coast on the barren backroads here with his arms wide open to the breeze. Unafraid. Independent. It gave him courage despite the evenings he swore vengeance upon it for willing him as prey to the sly criminals who once controlled him. A ‘no one’ with no defense to rival the claim.

If you are no one, there is nothing to leave behind. It’s both a blessing and a curse. There was no need to revere anything but the small moments. That may have been enough of a life to live. Wasn’t that good enough?

This blue so gloomy… Ever taciturn and fading merely blanketed the world. That was it. He’d seen it before. Hated it often. There wasn’t much of a difference.

Before he knew it, Kyle’s cigarette had burnt out. He hadn’t exactly puffed off any of it while it was lit. He hummed as he stuffed the burnt bud behind the lobe of his ear and tucked away the lighter hovering in his opposite palm. It was time to put on some gloves. The wait was getting long and the impending night no less frigid.

Change hadn’t come easy to him as others had thought. There weren’t many individuals Kyle could say knew him well enough to fathom how or why he was so sheltered in the first place. So it wasn’t important. He ignored his ill sentiments against the heavens above glaring down on him, making him feel minuscule, and turned back to face towards the distant café. Again, the hot air from within him collided on the chilled oxygen as he breathed out. The haze proved something… He didn’t quite know how to identify what though. He pinned his attention to the front door of the tiny bakery. The glass illuminated the sidewalk encircling it with a beacon of white glow.

_Just a little longer,_ he thought. His chest tightened. How many times had it done this?

Kyle faced south at his bike meters sitting motionless beneath the protective covers. He thought mutely of the hell forever thriving under the layers of ground on the other side of his feet. It didn’t go away just because he wasn’t trapped by it anymore. That truly frightened him. When he’d rev his engine, the vibrations would echo over the surface of the second realm. The prison below. There were plenty blues still scorched to his soul but the essence of them would continue to live on in the secretive dark sided metropolis to last plenty of lifetimes after his own was over. It was a plague that might never extinguish.

But the sound of a gentle bell chiming snapped him from his stupor and at last, the shadow of a figure began tapping across the marked path directly towards him.

In SanFran, there were brief liberties. They could be found in almost every crack betwixt the buildings. In bedrooms and in alleyways. Stage-theatre shows, illegal gatherings for the desperate and at high end luxurious lounges. Kyle had experienced plenty. More than he was proud of in fact. Others, he wished could be resurrected for the sake of overindulging. Yet this city itself shed its ugly shell the second the boy’s form passed through rays of approaching moonlight. Their pale skin came into exposure like a radiant painting, smooth porcelain sculpting him and round eyes searching for Kyle. False imaginings died out entirely beholding the darkness of his hair. The shape they’d come to take. Down to the motion of their body as they walked. The innocence of his smile – one pointedly made in greeting. A beam of goodness that validated an indescribable reminder. There were such things as beauty and happiness.

Kyle was a grown person. He’d never understood what it meant to love someone. He couldn’t quite fathom the responsibility, but the mere spirit of affectionate regard for someone else wasn’t a concept he’d been taught. He hadn’t been remotely interested in caring for anybody because no one could prepare him for it. It happened so suddenly… gripping him in a clutch of fascination. Those pesky thoughts of his dissipated. No warning, but no struggle…

And the colour blue didn’t seem so heinous when it outlined this pure-hearted being coming his way.

They wanted him. They accepted Kyle, attesting his presence in life as genuine. Against the odds, they erased the chaos storming within. He chased the nightmares away. Kyle wondered if he could persist questioning how he was capable of doing it, but the youth in him wanted to rejoice that power his companion had. Envious not, but grateful to the very core of his heart. They were the one to take away his hurt and cast it to nowhere as though the imperfections were never there.

Then Kyle started smiling too.

“You ready, kid?” he asked with a teasing tone. “Took you long enough.”

Hiro fixed his jacket, pulling it closer to wrap around his narrow midsection. _There it is again…_ that skipping beat in the cage of his ribs. His bones could start to shake. Hell, they might even shatter. But somehow, he thought this little one who saved him could help pick up the pieces.

“Yeah,” he grimaced. His guilt showed through in the drag of his whisper. “Sorry I made you wait.”

Kyle widened his grin. “Nah, it’s okay. I was just starting to feel better about something actually.”

Interested, Hiro bat his eyes and without another word, anticipating that Kyle would explain. Instead, the man stretched out a gloved hand to him. If they delayed too much longer, they wouldn’t have a prayer to make it back and avoid a lecture. His features lightened at the knowledge that soon they would have contact with one another in such a tender way. Touch… that _too_ was a new freedom. Nothing short of an endless marvel.

Hiro met the invitation.

“Come on. I’ll tell you on the ride.”

**Author's Note:**

> An orphaned line: "I fucking hate blue, but it makes you look so pretty."
> 
> A dip into the cityscape world of SanFran with an interesting take on a freeform character? Who knows where this may go... :3


End file.
